


The Power of Literature

by BuddyTheMeanPeacock



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: I refuse to clog the DimiLaude or ClauMitri or whatever the ship name's tag with this garbage, M/M, Other, Time for stoopid, brief mentions of memory loss, everyone lives due to fanfiction, pretty much crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyTheMeanPeacock/pseuds/BuddyTheMeanPeacock
Summary: Bernadetta is asked to write a story. The results are... unexpected.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. The Beginning (of a nice end)

It was nearly every day that Bernadetta sat in her isolated room, on her lonely bed, with no company around. It was a small paradise; no one around to make her anxious, and she herself not being of any great importance. At least, not usually. Her tendency to run away from any sort of social interaction makes her quite useless in any sort of strategy or commander meetings, so she is mostly left alone- save the few times the others try to get her to go out more, but those have lessened somewhat during the war.

Just as she thinks that, a knock on her door makes her jump.

"Gah!" She squeaks out, probably loud enough for the person outside to hear, ruining any possible chance to fake being asleep. Damn. "W-Who's there?!" If it were Ferdinand or Caspar she could- hopefully- just tell them to go away and she can go back to her musings.

"It's me, Bernadetta."

That was Edelgard.

Well, there goes that.

"I'm-I'm coming!" She stumbles off of her bed and rushes to the door, letting the Empress enter in a hopefully timely manner.

"Greetings, Bernadetta," she says, walking into the room with the regal air that always seems to follow her. "I hope I am not intruding?"

"Oh nooo, no no no," Bernadetta quickly says, "absolutely not, no! I was just, ah, laying around, nothing important- ah, not that I wouldn't have answered if I was!" She corrected. "I mean, nothing's really more important than you I guess, huh? No, wait, that sounds weird! I'm sorry-"

"Calm yourself, Bernadetta!" Edelgard says, and through her it sounds like a command. "There's no need to get so worked up. I only came to ask a favor, if you don't mind."

"Oh, uh, sure!" She fiddles with her hands, unsure what to think. A favor? What could Edelgard possibly want from her?

"Well, I suppose I must first ask you a question. Do you mind?" Edelgard lowers herself on Bernadetta's bed, back straight and head held high. She seemed incapable of looking small, despite her actually being shorter than the owner of the bed.

"Uh, not at all!!" Bernadetta felt her face spread into an anxious smile, wide open and barely curving upwards. She felt like a fool.

"I heard that you had a habit of writing stories," Edelgard starts, hands in her lap and eyes directly on Bernadetta's. "I was wondering if such a habit was still one you partake in."

"Um... are you asking me... to write you a story?" She holds her hands to her face and tilts her head, a tic she knew she had when she was confused but never found a way to get rid of.

"Something like that, yes," Edelgard confirms. She shuts her eyes and sighs. "If I were to be specific, I would like for you to come up with something involving two particular character types, if you do not mind."

"Really?" She lowers her voice, talking more to herself, "I've never done something like that before..."

"If it is a bother, please, pay me no mind," Edelgard assures her, rising from her spot on the bed. "I only wanted to have something to take my mind off of the hectic schedule I must adhere to. I will find something else to do so."

"W-W-Wait!" Bernadetta counters, waving her hands. "I-I'll try it out! It, uh... kinda sounds fun, if I'm being honest."

"Truly? You aren't just saying that to appease me, are you?" Edelgard raises an eyebrow, perhaps the only thing even slightly casual she's done since coming in her room. Even then it was impactful.

"No, no! I mean it! I'll, uh, try my best!"

Edelgard takes a moment to stare at Bernadetta. She squirms some under the gaze, but it was luckily short lived as the empress sat back down.

"Very well then. I will describe the characters to you. You are to decide what you will write about them."

Bernadetta swallowed, but nodded.

Edelgard copied the action. "Right. The first character is male. He is tall, a towering man with golden hair and piercing ice blue eyes, and a complexion rarely touched by the sun, more used to the harsh colds. He is strong, stronger than any man that has come before him, but his strength is beaten soundly by the feather-softness of the heart he wears on his sleeve, his honesty and sincerity a treat he gifts his close ones regularly. He is kind to a fault; he can endure any insult thrown his way, no matter how severe. However, he has a ruthless streak to those he deems a threat to those he holds dear, and may they seek some salvation in the afterlife, for they will not receive any from him."

Bernadetta's eyes widened. Edelgard's description was so vivid, it was as though the man was standing in the room with them. She could see him now- polite, perhaps a small smile on his face, as he asked for permission to sit in her chair.

"The second character," Edelgard continued, "is also male. He is shorter than the first character but still a respectable height, with chocolate hair and stunning forest green eyes. His complexion is far more sun-kissed, a golden brown in the dawnlight. He is seen as conniving, a man of few morals, but behind that is the mind of a true genius, and a seeker of all truths he can gather. He hides himself behind rumors, comfortable in their familiarity, to better protect himself and the precious few he holds dear. Trust comes slowly to this one, but once it arrives, he holds fast with an iron grip. But, even to those few, he holds secrets, unsure if even they can be trusted truly."

This second character is just as lifelike as the first. The first sits in the chair, patiently waiting for his turn to speak; this one leans boldly on her desk, eyebrow quirked as he sneakily asks her where she's been to rule her out as a suspect of a crime.

"They are both heirs to separate territories, and seemingly destined to be political opponents- or, at the very least, destined to be apart, too busy ruling their respective nations through war to have a truly lasting relationship. Unless..."

"Unless...? Unless?!" Bernadetta was hooked, vested in the narrative Edelgard has crafted. Could they become close? As partners, friends or- maybe- maybe even-

"That," Edelgard says, a small smile on her face, "is where I hope you come in."

Bernadetta gasped and pointed to herself in disbelief. "Huh?! Me?!?"

"Yes, you. I am hoping that is sufficient enough for a story?"

"Are you kidding?! That's more than enough!!" Bernadetta tucked her chin between her index and thumb, thinking aloud, "At war- war! Are they against each other, destined to fight one another? Or- maybe- maybe they're unexpected allies in a grand fight, and their time spent together as leaders slowly brings them closer? Ooooh, what if the second man gets hurt in battle after they become friends? What would the first one do?!"

She doesn't notice Edelgard arise from the bed, chuckling to herself as a slight blush spreads across her face.

"Thank you for never leaving your room during the academy, Bernadetta," she whispers as she leaves.


	2. The End (to a stupid beginning)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes art imitates life. Other times people make life imitate art.

_ He flew through the rain, pushing his wyvern to its limits as he squinted through the falling curtains of water. The letter was so urgent, its messenger heavily wounded, a desperate soldier hoping to save their doomed king. He brought no one, a crazed frenzy causing him to dash as fast as the Gods would allow.  _

_ He won't allow him to die. Not him. Not the one person he could trust with all his heart, all his being. _

_ He spotted the landmark. He stopped his wyvern and surveyed the landscape below him, his heart beating slower and his body growing colder as the seconds grinded against his bones. Bodies lay before him; horses, pegasi, wyverns, humans, all matter of beings lay dead and unmoving as he guides his trusted mount to the slick ground. He looks around the dreaded battlefield, green eyes usually so calm and calculated now distressed and anguished, hoping to find one man alive. _

_ He called out his name, screeched it, his throat stabbed by the force of his desperation. He had to be alive. He needed to have come on time. They can't part, not like this- _

_ Out of the corner of his eye he spots it. Slight, nearly imperceivable, only years of honing his eyes for the tricks and tics of enemies does he detect the twitch of one sole body. He sprints for it, feet nearly slipping in the muddied ground. He slides to the body's side, finally getting a clear view of its details. _

_ Barely visible under watered-down blood were familiar golden locks, the fair-skinned face the only part uncovered by his people's furred armor, now dented and broken and oozing blood. His eyes, beautiful and crushing, were closed, piercing his heart with fear before he noticed the slightest rises and falls of his chest. He took his shoulder and shook as hard as he was able. _

_ Eyelids fluttered before revealing glazed lakes of ice. The man sighed out, relief flooding him more than any rain could ever dream of doing. _

_ "You're alive… you're… alive…" _

_ The wounded man looked to his companion. "The… others…" he croaks, his hoarse voice just louder than the crashing cascade around them. "How… are… they…?" _

_ The man's eyes widened, the regret of his next words already settling in his chest, taking root and poisoning his blood. "You're… you're the only one…" _

_ The wounded man's eyes matched in size of that of his friend's, his head shaking from something far colder than the drops that landed upon his face. "No… no…! Please, tell me-" _

_ He broke off, wet coughs racking his body. The wyvern rider panicked. He lifted his friend's- friend's?- body, grunting as he tried to give any semblance of comfort. Agonizing seconds passed as he waited, waited, waited for the coughs to settle, before taking out an elixir and easing its deep blue numbing down the misused throat. _

_ "Come with me," he says, going to put his arm around him to help him rise to his nearby wyvern. "We can get away from the war, leave it behind us-" _

_ He was weakly shoved. _

_ "Leave me!" He begs, voice stronger, body already forgetting that it was dying. "I've failed them… they're dead, and I couldn't- I have no right, no right-" _

_ The man turned, snapping his head to look into the despairing eyes of his… of his… "I'm not letting you die!" He screams, chest burning with the airs of the damned flames of hell at the mere thought. "Please, you can't let yourself die, you can't let their deaths be for nothing, you can't- you can't-" and he breathes in, taking in the familiar scent hiding under gore and metal, "you can't leave me. Please, don't leave me…" _

Edelgard shut the crudely made book, her eyes burning with a long unfamiliar wetness.

Damn, Bernadetta could write.

Her tale was so riveting, so many twists and turns, and for someone Edelgard is almost positive has never even  _ seen _ the two she described she has gotten such a hold on their personalities- at least, from what Edelgard's numerous spies on the two told her at least.

It was so… human. Edelgard felt a ping in her chest- nostalgic, an old feeling she long thought was forgotten in the years of preparing for the war.

Loss.

…

\---

Months later, having her beloved teacher at her side, the Empire takes on Derdriu. With some trouble, they take victory. Edelgard hopes Claude to be the sort to try to live no matter the means.

"Wouldn't it be better to let me go and have me in your debt?"

She was never happier to be right.

"Indeed, I believe it would be. I knew you would be the sort to never give up, even if your means of doing such are… unconventional."

He shrugged his shoulders, green eyes guarded behind his empty smile. "What can I say? Not the biggest fan of dyin'."

"An understandable sentiment. One I hope you intend to keep up. I've already thought of what I wish from you, and all I ask is for you to keep your end of the bargain."

"Oh? Well, aren't we cocky. You never thought you'd lose, huh?"

"Call it wishful thinking, more than anything. Believe it or not, I've read the most eye-opening piece of literature recently, and it has filled my head with quite the array of ideas."

"Oh ho ho, how intriguing! To capture the arrow-straight mind of the Flame Emperor herself is quite a feat indeed! Could I possibly have the name of such a mysterious piece-"

"Absolutely not. Anyway, I wish for you a few things. I hope that is agreeable with you?"

"Pfft. Sure it is."

"The first is that you abstain from the war entirely, and make no plans for future retaliation."

"Hmmm, easy enough. I'm  _ also _ not the biggest fan of conquest, sad to say. I will have to make some arrangements though to make sure you aren't beset with any… issues."

"...How kind of you. Secondly, you must use your talents with potions and poisons and craft one such concoction with the ability to induce amnesia. This is not for your consumption. Administer it if you feel you must."

"...Alright."

"Lastly, you are to meet here in monthly periods to receive a letter which will guide you somewhere specific. I will guarantee you to be the only one present. You will see what you will have to do once you reach it, I have faith."

"...That's quite the tall order you're handin' me." He sighs and shakes his head. "Don't got much of a choice though, now do I? Alright. I'll do it. Just-" he breaks off, looks away, then back at Edelgard, "make nice with Almyra, will ya? In the future?"

Her eyebrow quirks upward slightly at the request, but she nods her head in agreement.

One man down. 

Now for the hard part.

\---

Bernadetta was a scary writer.

Edelgard couldn't get it out of her head how eerily similar the battlefield before her and the one in the silly story was. If it were any consolation, it made her next decision easier, in an odd way.

Months preparing herself to kill Dimitri, a kind boy who would have made a great king, when she could just…

Not.

And she doesn't.

Gravely wounded but alive, her messenger already sent to Derdriu. Now all she has to do it wait.

\---

She checks Derdriu daily after that. A few days later the letter arrives, words oddly but expectedly stilted considering who she knew the author to be.

_ Flame Emperor  _

_ He's alive. I gave him the potion. He forgot nearly everything- what he remembers is unimportant save it has nothing to do with you. We'll stay out of your hair. Keep your promise about Almyra. _

At the end, hurriedly scrawled as if it were added against better judgment.

_ Thank you. _

Edelgard smiled.

\---

She fiddled with her hands. Messed with the ends of her hair. Looked about the door as if it would give her answers. She breathed in, and breathed out.

"U-Um, Lady Edelgard?"

A moment passes. She rubs her arms. This is stupid, stupid, stupid- she ought to be training for the final fight, closing in so fast. Or try to sleep it away in her room, forgotten like she wanted. Maybe she should just leave now before-

"Come in, Bernadetta."

She jumped. Well, so much for that. She walked in. Edelgard was on her bed, in a familiar daunting, straight-laced pose.  _ Can _ she relax? She really should…

"How can I assist you, Bernadetta?"

The question makes her jump. Oh, yes, duh, of course she would ask that. Her fingers danced amongst themselves. "U-Uh, I was just curious… you, uh, must have finished my story by now, right?"

A slight pause. Then a nod of confirmation.

"Uh, ah… how was it?"

Edelgard's eyes widened slightly, as if the question wasn't what she was expecting. "Right. How I felt about it." She smiled, genuinely, and Bernadetta was struck by how nice it made her face look. "It was beautiful; truly, a gorgeous piece of literature. I cherish it."

A gasp left her involuntarily. Familiar thoughts of doubt crept in, that she was over exaggerating to reel her in for something nefarious… but Edelgard is quite serious about, well, everything. Her strong words match her strong personality. But she had to ask anyway, "R-Really? You like it that much?!"

"Oh, believe me Bernadetta. It moved me in ways you would not even begin to understand."

Her heart was trying its damndest to leave her chest. All she could manage in response to such high praise was a high pitched "Ah… ah…" every few seconds. 

She squeaked out a "Thankyouverymuch!!" before dashing out the door. So fast in her escape she failed to notice Edelgard unceremoniously flop back on her bed, flinging her arms across her face.

"Oh, thank you Bernadetta, for never fighting in the front lines."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol

**Author's Note:**

> Pure idiocy


End file.
